The Arkansaw traveler., 1887-10-29
CELESTE'S WEDDING.
The Story of An Heiress.

One day, business requiring my presence at \., d small town with population of 5000 or 6,000 inhabi- tants, distant twenty hours from Paris, arrived there about ten in the forenoon, and was greatly surprised to find the streets which are generally so silent and peaceful, unusually ani- match Groups of men were standing in front of the shops, women were gossiping at the windows, young men and young girls were vending their way toward the public square, while urchins were running about in every direction.
 The Hotel of Commerce, my cus- tomary stopping place, seemed upside down. Travellers, who had been aban- doned to their fate by the walters, were tugging furiously at their bell cords, one calling for his boots, another for his breakfast. this one wanted his mail, that one his paper, while the corridors were the scene of an indescribable confusion. The master of the house, d stout, .jevial man, known to all as Father Philip, travelled up stairs and down, perspir- ing. panting, and fumbling at loss as to which call he should answer first. stopped him as he was going by.
 Hello! Father Philip" said l with a laugh, "what's the matter? Are your servants on a striker"
 "Ahw replied he, as he mopped his face furiously with his handkerchief, d, l. .f ,t n;,. had forbidden if, they have all gone to the wedding. An! here they are now, coming back. It is about time n'
 With contrite looks and hanging heads, the three walters were return- ing as he said, sneaking along the wall. But Father Philip, red as boiled lobster, had caught sight of them, and without waiting for explanations, he bawled at the top of his voice:
 Say, are you all trying to make Q fool of me? Augusta, chocolate to z, coffee with milk to II, letters to 9! Emile, l6's boots, 6's hat, Petit Jour- nal to ,. No. l's bill! Jules, l4's breakfast, the Time 7'dble for 21."
 Without questions, August, Emile and Jules disappeared up the staircase as if by magic We heard them scur- rying along the halls on the upper floor: doors were slammed, and five minutes later the house had recovered its usual serenity. Then only did Father Philip become more calm, and turning to me, he said:
 "Why, you have not been relieved of your valise yet. I beg your par don. An! my dear sir, one is any thing but happy when he has to deal with such scamps! But then cannot be angry with them to-day. The whole town is topsy-turvey on &C., count of the wedding"
 "Whose wedding?"
 "Bein? An! that's so. You have just arrived and could not know. It is the marriage of Mile. Bondurand v'
 In uttering this last sentence Father Philip was very probably under the impression that was going to exclaim: "That accounts for it" as he seemed most unpleasantly surprised when replied, without dreaming that I might give offense: q can't see why the marriage of that particular lady should have revolutionized tle town in this way"
 He disdainfully stuck out his neither lip, sure sign that he was pouting, or, as his waiter would say, "showing his lip" Still, he was on the point of explaining why such cause had produced SO great an effect, when the rumbling of carriages resounded in the street and the air was filled with cries of "Here they come! here they comew
 It was the wedding-the famous wedding of Mile. Bondurand-which, after the ceremony at the town hall and at church was passing by the hotel on its way back to the brides residence. It was followed by a crowd of idlers who ran along, shouting, waving their hats, and showing each other, even under the horses feet, as they scrambled in the dust after the sugar-plums the groomsmen were throwing by handfals through the carriage windows, se
 We had posted ourselves on the stoop to get better view of the cor. tege as 1t went by. Father Philip shared in the general enthusiasm, and seemed hugely delighted as he pointed out to me the family and the invited guests.